


i will sing to you everyday if it will take away the pain

by itsafuckingdeathwish



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M, fuck it, this fic is why im not supposed to post things at midnight that i wrote five minutes ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:30:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsafuckingdeathwish/pseuds/itsafuckingdeathwish
Summary: Patrick knew that he’d never run out of memories to keep telling Joe, that the ambulance could take fucking days to get here and he’d still be talking, but Patrick was starting to lose his voice and the heartbeat pulsing under Patrick’s finger on Joe’s wrist was getting weaker and weaker.





	i will sing to you everyday if it will take away the pain

**Author's Note:**

> no tw, just angst/death

“Remember that time? Remember when I was pissed at you for some stupid shit---god, I don’t even remember what it was anymore---I was pissed at you, and I wouldn’t talk to you or answer your texts or anything so at fucking two a.m. you brought that stupid old boombox---where did you even get that thing? It was fucking ancient man---and you started blasting shitty love songs through my bedroom window until I let you in?”

Joe’s eyelid twitched a bit.

Or Patrick imagined that Joe’s eyelid twitched a bit.

“Or what about---what about that time when I---” It was getting harder and harder for Patrick to talk around the lump in his throat. “What about when we skipped out on prom to go lie in your backyard and look at the stars because ‘fuck the establishment’ but really---but---but really it was just easier to lay my head on your chest so you could play with my hair?”

Patrick hated how everything was coming out like a question, like without Joe he wasn’t even sure if his own memories were real. Like that whole time was just too honey and sunlit and golden to exist in real life.

“Remember when I---when I got called out by our history teacher for staring at you at class, so we skipped class to make out in the---make out in the stairwell instead?” 

Patrick swore that Joe’s mouth quirked up into a hint of a smile. He traced his hand over Joe’s pale skin, letting his fingertips skim across the memories living there. 

“When we were still hopelessly in love with each other but each too scared to actually say the words but one day we were lying on your bed talking about life and the universe and love and we both leaned over at the same exact moment to kiss each other?”

Patrick wasn’t sure anymore if he was telling these stories for Joe or for himself, but he decided that it didn’t matter, and kept going.

“When I called you crying because my parents found out I’m gay, and you--- you stole your dad’s car and drove to my house and picked me up and we just drove around for hours and hours and you made shitty jokes and you made me feel okay again?

The tears staining his cheeks dripped down onto his hands. “When we got that first apartment, and that first night---god, that apartment---that first night we dumped the mattress on the floor----and, and hung those Christmas lights because you said they felt like stars and I said they felt like home and all our other shit was in cardboard boxes but it didn’t matter at all?”

Patrick knew that he’d never run out of memories to keep telling Joe, that the ambulance could take fucking days to get here and he’d still be talking, but Patrick was starting to lose his voice and the heartbeat pulsing under Patrick’s finger on Joe’s wrist was getting weaker and weaker. 

“Where the fuck are they where the fuck are they where the fuck are they?” Patrick mumbled over and over, rocking a little bit. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d called. “It’s okay babe, it’s gonna be fine, everything’s gonna turn out just fine, I promise, don’t worry babe they’re coming they’re coming I swear don’t worry.” Patrick wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore but he knew he just couldn’t stop talking. 

He started singing instead, but his head was too fuzzy and he couldn’t remember the lyrics to more than one verse of any song so he’d switch every few lines, humming all the words that were just out of reach. 

He thought he could hear a siren outside, an ambulance screaming down the street, but he wasn’t sure of anything. How could he remember what a siren sounded like when the love of his life was fading away in his arms on the floor? 

Patrick kept singing because that was all he could do anymore. 

Feet pounded up the stairs and voices yelled. 

The door slammed open.

People rushed in.

Patrick stopped singing.

Joe stopped breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> ik it's kinda shitty, hasn't been edited at all but maybe its kinda ok? hmu on tumblr at urvampgirlfriend


End file.
